The Questionable Aspects of Humans
by LunarLacrimosa
Summary: Bumblebee is a mech who played at a belief in Primus to appease his Prime. But when Sam and Mikaela get engaged the mech decides to search out Sam's old friend who just up and disappeared one day. What he finds in in the form of Miles Lancaster and his daughter will change how Bumblebee views the world for good. (Supernatural crap/people with powers. Questions. Sam & Miles are 25)


**AN: **This was originally a story that was going to go into my Drabbles collection because I didn't know if I wanted to continue it or not, but then I spat out 6,000+ words and decided that was a bit too much over my normal word count to be comfortable putting it along with the others. I still have no idea what I've been writing, but I blame Stephen King for making me want to write about the supernatural. That's about it. Cheers!

* * *

Two months ago, Samuel James Witwicky had proposed to one Mikaela Alexandria Banes in quite a magnificent manner and with more than a few people cheering the now twenty five year old man on. Along with the people had been several Autobots, Bumblebee of course being among them. He had helped his Charge plan out the proposal for ages and they'd gone over every pain staking detail to make it perfect—and of course something had happened to ruin their plan up until Sam had decided to do what he did best and make everything up on the spot. Mikaela had said yes and the two had kissed.

Bumblebee had been incredibly happy for the pair and what had been years in the making, ever since back when they first kissed in Mission City, but then he had started to think of wedding gifts. While it was true that Mikaela and Sam had already had coitus a wedding on Earth was a bonding ceremony back on Cybertron; the two would officially be sparkmates. And new sparkmates got gifts on the day of their bonding ceremony—lavish and extravagant gifts or, if it was coming from a close friend, a gift that would mean a lot to one or both of them.

And that was what had caused the Scout to sink into a spiral of terrible indecision. What could he possibly get Mikaela or Sam or even the both of them that would mean a lot and carry a significant weight?

It was a night a few days after the proposal that had given Bumblebee his insane idea. Sam had gotten slightly drunk with both Epps and Will, and the three had shared stories of their stupid teenage escapades. Sam had brought up a time when he and his old best friend had decided it would be a fantastic idea to sneak into the school and replace the pictures of the head football players with pictures of cross-dressing men, the friend tripping and taking them both into the pool on their way out and nearly getting them caught.

That friend was one Miles Lancaster. Back in their junior year Miles and Sam had been extremely close, Bumblebee had nearly been driven sick with how often he had to play non-sentient car because of it. And then, just like that, Miles disappeared one day in the summer. He didn't come back for his senior year and Sam never saw him again.

That night Bumblebee had found his gift, one that was just for Sam. He'd find Miles Lancaster before the wedding and either find out what had happened to him and get him to come or force him to come along and play nice. Sam could have his old best friend back.

* * *

Bumblebee's search for Miles took a lot longer than the Scout had wanted it to, nearly a month. It didn't help that his actual name was _Milton_ and that he'd been looking up all of the Miles Lancaster's instead. Lancaster was an aggravatingly common last name and Miles wasn't an unusual first name. Milton, however, was a bit outdated and it helped to narrow down the search.

Finally, three weeks after Sam and Mikaela got engaged, the Scout pulled up a picture of Miles from the Tranquility high school's records and started a facial recognition search. He got just two hits. One was to a site that held the online version of a small town newspaper in a dull place called Newbury, Wisconsin. It was the obituary for Miles Lancaster, telling the tragic story of another young person overdosing. The article reported that he was eighteen, which would have made it not even a year after he left Tranquility.

Next was another article, this time from a local state paper from Alabama. It was three years old and hosted a story about a brave soul, Jeffrey Thompson, who had risked his life rescuing a young wife and her baby from a deranged husband. Jeffrey Thompson's face was nearly an exact match for Miles Lancaster. The years into adulthood, as the article reported Jeffrey to be twenty three at the time, had changed Miles' face a little, and the transition from skater-punk to serious young adult made him nearly unrecognizable.

Those two revelations left Bumblebee stuck. Why had Miles Lancaster disappeared in Tranquility, Nevada and died in Newbury, Wisconsin? Why was his death fake and what caused him to become Jeffrey Thompson?

* * *

Two months after Sam and Mikaela got engaged, Bumblebee found himself down in Alabama. It had taken a week alone to convince Optimus to have someone else play Sam's car just so he could leave, half of that time alone trying to keep what he was doing a secret. His Prime trusted him, but he also worried, and the Scout was lucky he'd been allowed to leave at all.

He'd ditched the concept form of his 2009 Camaro for a more reserved model, a black Maserati Gran Turismo S. The Scout didn't want to draw unwanted attention for any reason, and a black car was usually the most inconspicuous. Something as flashy as the canary yellow of his previous alt mode almost always turned heads.

It took the Scout a few days of driving until he found the right town, happening by chance to be passing a convenience store just as Jeffrey Thompson was leaving it. The Scout kept driving, though, trying to plan his route of attack. There were a lot of things he was missing and he knew that, no one just faked their own death and started a new life for no reason. But he was on a mission and reason or not, Bumblebee would see that Miles at least hear him out about going to Sam's wedding.

A day later Bumblebee sat parked on the side of a road, having slashed his own tire. His holoform was out and leaning up against his alt mode. Black hair was mussed up and a dark expression was worn to put out the air of frustration, and he'd carefully formed the t-shirt he was wearing to have wrinkles and the jeans to have what appeared to be dirt on the knees, as if he'd been kneeling.

An hour passed before Miles passed his way. He'd waved on at least six other people, because in a small town like Loving, Alabama everyone could afford to be nice and offer a stranger some help. And sure enough Miles did the very same thing, pulling up just behind his alt mode in an old, cherry red truck that had rust eating at it.

"You need some help?" Miles asked, leaning out the window.

Bumblebee put on his best shamed smile, "That'd be wonderful! I've got a spare but no tire iron, and I can't get any bloody reception out here."

Miles laughed, and Bumblebee watched him carefully as he stepped out of his truck and reached into the bed of it. The now twenty five year old had grown about four inches taller than he was at seventeen, and whatever the man had spent his time doing had changed his previously skinny physique to a more muscular one. Not by much, but this was a man that anyone could pick out as good at doing some heavy lifting sort of odd job. He'd cut his hair, too, and it was cropped close to his head now. The time down south had only given his skin even more sun, and overall, by human standards, the man would be considered good looking. Maybe not handsome or supermodel material, but a classic look that was aesthetically pleasing. A down home southern family type of man look.

"Getting reception anywhere except in town or in one of the neighborhoods is a right bitch, buddy." Miles agreed, and he pulled a tire iron and car jack out of the bed of his truck before making his way over to Bumblebee. "You grab that tire and I'll switch it off for you."

Miles said buddy exactly the way it was meant to be said. The man had a way of speaking that showed how well liked he must have been; his words held an honest meaning that was lost in today's society. When Miles said buddy he meant buddy, ol' pal, friend, even if Bumblebee was a stranger.

"Thanks a lot," Bumblebee smiled at the man before moving around and popping open his trunk, reaching in and grabbing the spare tire he'd placed there the day before. He propped it against his fender as Miles set to work on removing the other one.

"You're not from around here," the blonde stated simply, not so much a question as an observation. "Sounds like you're more west of here."

"You got it," Bumblebee replied, making himself laugh. "Came into some money and I was bored for the summer so I decided to take a cross-country trip. A teacher has to get his kicks somewhere."

"Not much here in little ol' Loving," Miles grunted as he slid off the slashed tire, grabbing the new one to put on. "We don't get many visitors. Some old family, but once a Loving almost always a Loving. We watch over ourselves, so don't mind none if some act a bit rude to you."

Bumblebee just nodded, letting Miles finish up and stand once again, brushing the dirt off from the knees of his pants. Now that he was even closer he could see how calloused the man's hands were, leading the Scout to think he'd taken up manual labor. On the back of his left hand was a nasty scar, and Miles noticed him looking, covering it up with his right hand.

"Ah, sorry, that's rude." Bumblebee muttered in fake apology.

Miles shook his head and smiled, "Hard not to stare at some things, I understand. Think you best get on to wherever you're going then, Mister."

Miles held his hand out for Bumblebee to shake, a friendly gesture, but the Scout noticed he made a point of not offering his left one. Bumblebee plastered on a false smile and took his hand, gripping it in a firm handshake.

"Thanks, Miles."

And just like that any of the previous friendliness on Miles' face disappeared. Barely any shock registered, his face just shifting from friendly to angry in mere seconds. He ripped his hand out of Bumblebee's grasp, and the Scout saw his hazel eyes darken into stormy clouds.

"I don't know who you are and I don't care, but leave us alone." Miles hissed angrily, "Get out of here, _buddy_."

It was almost a shock how Miles' new version of the word completely destroyed the other way. The man was good with his words, his feelings, and he made himself very clear. He had spit out the word, turning it venomous, a disgusting thing. Bumblebee had gone from a tolerable stranger to a nuisance that he wanted gone immediately.

Bumblebee said nothing, just kept on smiling, and Miles back tracked to his truck as fast as possible. Barely a minute passed before the man was tearing down the street, trying very purposefully to leave Bumblebee in the dust, and the Scout let him.

This one encounter told him a lot. Miles was scared of his past, of what had made him leave it, and whatever scared him was still a threat. And who was the us that he needed to protect?

* * *

Bumblebee spent the night in a tiny cul-de-sac just outside of Loving, recharging on the curb outside of a house with a for sale sign. In the morning he woke to a dog barking at the passing paperboy, and he spent every moment up until noon searching for any other signs of Miles Lancaster or Jeffrey Thompson online.

In a world where almost everything could be found online, Miles had succeeded in an almost impossible feat: he barely existed.

At 12:01 something caught Bumblebee's attention. A little girl turned onto the street of the cul-de-sac, tripping over her own bare feet as she ran as fast as she could. The dress she was wearing had been ripped at the bottom, and it looked as if she'd had a fight with some shrubbery with all the leaves in her hair. The Scout scanned her and picked up elevated adrenaline and heart rate; something had terrified her.

"Let me in, please!" The little girl begged desperately as she ran towards him, and Bumblebee was floored. She grasped for the driver's side handle and Bumblebee let her swing it open in his shock.

The little girl practically threw herself inside his interior and slammed his door, sliding down on the floor and curling up into a tight ball so none of her touched the pedals or the steering wheel.

"The Hat Man is coming," the little girl whispered. "Don't let him get me."

Bumblebee didn't reply. He was too busy trying to convince himself that the girl wasn't actually talking to himself, that she'd just seen an empty car and had thought to hide from this Hat Man inside of him, and that she was now just pleading to herself or whatever god she believed in. There was no way she could know what he was, that was impossible, but every instinct he possessed was screaming at him that she did and that he needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

But he didn't, and at 12:08 another figure came onto the cul-de-sac. The Hat Man walked slowly and seemed to bring a darkened sky along with him. Although it was the middle of summer and a blistering ninety degrees he wore a heavy woolen coat, the collar turned up and a bowler hat on top of his head, a shadow hiding his face entirely.

The Hat Man looked slowly around the cul-de-sac, and then, somehow, Bumblebee knew when the Hat Man finally stopped and looked directly at him even though he couldn't see the man's eyes. The Scout tried to scan him but his scan came back telling him that nothing at all was there.

"Little youngling," the Hat Man sang in a deep, rolling baritone. "Don't hide things. Krasnok eats the bad data of those who lie and turns them into Lings."

Bumblebee didn't have a spine for a chill to run down, but he did have a spark, and it nearly seized with horror. The Hat Man had just sung an old Cybertronian lullaby, one meant to scare younglings. Krasnok was the bad figure in all youngling stories, much like the boogeyman. Lings was the roughly translated name of mechs and femmes who had been programmed; they had no control of themselves and were forced to do whatever their program dictated. Research had revealed that a Ling was very much aware of its' self and what it was doing, and that most were happy to be put down.

And the Hat Man knew it. Knew about Krasnok and Lings, knew that the little girl was inside of him. And for the first time since he'd landed on Earth, Bumblebee was truly afraid of a human being.

The Scout said nothing, had nothing to say, and the girl stayed inside him and shivered. He had never met a human that he could ever say exuded an aura of terrible things—but the Hat Man exuded nothing else. The Hat Man walked forward a few steps and Bumblebee felt the urge to back off and drive away as fast as possible, but then the Hat Man cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something, and just like that he turned around and left.

By 12:13 the Hat Man was nowhere in sight.

"He's gone," the little girl told him as she maneuvered herself into the driver's seat. Just another thing to add to the list of things that shouldn't be happening; a little girl not speaking to herself but directly at him, comforting him, and a man who knew exactly what he was and where he came from.

And that was when Bumblebee took a better look at the girl and realized she was blind. Milky white clouds swallowed both of her pupils and filled up her irises, blonde hair falling down to her shoulders and framing her face. Slowly, she began pulling the leaves out of her hair, putting them neatly on her lap one by one as if she was aware that she shouldn't make a mess in him.

Somehow, the cat was already out of the bag. Impossibly, improbably, but it was true.

"Who are you?"

The little girl paused in the cleaning of her hair, and although Bumblebee could tell she was blind her eyes focused directly on the middle of his steering wheel, on the Autobot symbol there.

"You should take me home, Mister-not-human." The little girl solemnly informed him, "And then stay with me. The Hat Man is stronger than me, I couldn't see anything about you but he could. Krasnok, Lings, younglings. I don't know what any of that means but I know it's about you and I know he saw it. You should take me home."

For some reason, Bumblebee listened to her. He started his engine up and left the cul-de-sac, following the little girl's instructions to her house. It was just a ways out of town, even further than the cul-de-sac had been, on a lonely stretch of dirt road hat dead ended at a lake and was surrounded by woods. She had him pull up to a tiny little one story house, a quaint little one with a swing attached to a tree and a flower bed around the mailbox. He pulled into the gravel driveway, and the little girl got out.

He formed his holoform and the little girl took his hand, just knowing where he was, and they walked inside together.

* * *

Bumblebee sat at the dining table in the little house, watching the little girl putter around and make herself a bowl of cereal in a daze. She either knew her way exactly around the house or… whatever sort of powers she seemed to have were helping her out.

Nearly two hours had passed since she first climbed inside of him and the Hat Man had sung. He'd been sitting at the table the entire time while the little girl went about her business, first bathing and then changing into a fresh dress and braiding her hair. Then she went and turned on the radio and sang along to it cheerfully as she twirled in circles, a little kid enjoying herself.

Before this, all the humans on the Earth had been exactly the same to Bumblebee. Sure, he had a few ones closer to his spark, like Sam and Mikaela, but they had been the same as every other human on the Earth, just with a few special friends. And now he was suddenly being thrust into the idea that certain humans had certain abilities, powers. He'd heard of it before, of course, of angels and demons and psychics and people who could move thins with their minds, but he'd never believed any of it. He'd never believed a single word of it because there had never been any proof, it was the same reason why he just said he believed in Primus to calm Optimus down when the Prime grew worried over his faith, because if the Scout didn't see something for himself, know the proof of the facts, then it just wasn't real. It was fiction, that's all it was.

Except Clara was very real, a little girl that had blood flowing through her body and a heart beating in her chest and some type of abilities that let her know Bumblebee wasn't human. And he had absolutely no idea what the Hat Man was. For a mech that never believed in his own God, in the notion of the Pit or the notion of the well of sparks, it is a fantastically terrifying idea.

Bumblebee's processor was reeling, but not so much that he didn't pick up another vehicle rolling slowly into the driveway. The Scout had mainly been focusing on his holoform, turning most of the sensors in his actual body off and putting most of his awareness in the holoform. It took a moment for him to switch back, for him to pick up the cherry red truck parking just beside his alt mode.

The us. The us included this little girl, because Miles Lancaster was running up the drive way; within a minute he had slammed open the front door and was in the house. He stormed into the kitchen, a tornado of seething energy, and Bumblebee just stared at him while the little girl sat down next to him, starting to eat her bowl of cereal.

"What the fu-"

"A dollar in the swear jar," the little girl crowed instantly, cutting Miles off. "And he's okay, he helped me today. Saved me from the Hat Man. Why aren't you at work?"

Just like that Miles deflated, a balloon that all of the air had been let out of. The anger turned into a tired look, the man scrubbing at his face.

"One of the customers told me ol' Frank had a heart attack and was in the hospital," Miles muttered, in a defensive tone. "So I knew something was going to happen."

Bumblebee turned to look at the little girl, seeing how she would respond. She tilted her head to the side, blind eyes staring at Miles intently. And then she smiled as if she'd found out a secret.

"You were smoking and Pete came up for a light and mentioned it," she informed him, an accusatory tone to her voice. "You promised to stop."

"And you promised that if something happened to Frank you would not only call me immediately but try and relocate to Gertrude's," Miles pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I'd really like to know who the hell this guy is and why he's sitting in our kitchen."

"Not a guy," the little girl informed him in a sulky tone, as if losing out on her accusations had disappointed her. "I'm not sure what he is but he's definitely not human."

"You didn't introduce yourself?"

The girl actually whined, kicking the table. "That's boring! I made him come here because he's so interesting, I can't tell what he is and the Hat Man knew! I've been trying to figure it out since we got here."

"I don't care," Miles replied, "Introduce yourself, and then I'd like whatever he is to introduce himself back."

"I'm Clara," the little girl mumbled, swirling her spoon around in her cereal.

"Bumblebee," the Scout replied without thinking, and when he caught himself he didn't see any reason he should have lied. He was already identified as not human. "This is uhm… this is all very not what I was expecting. Not at all."

"And what were you expecting?" Miles asked, and Bumblebee turned back to look at him. The expression on the man's face was a hard one to read, and he was searching for something. "How do you know me, how do you know us?"

"That's the thing; I had no idea about Clara!" Bumblebee couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice, "I knew about you and it took forever just to find you. I found the clipping in the Newbury times and then I saw the other one of you saving a woman and her child as Jeffrey Thompson."

Miles looked surprised, "Why are you just here for me?"

That told Bumblebee a lot. Whatever Clara was, it was dangerous. And Miles was obviously helping her with staying alive, because the Scout just knew that if the Hat Man every caught her, the little girl would no longer be alive.

"Sam and Mikaela are getting married," Bumblebee explained weakly, "The customs on my planet dictate an extremely close and personal gift for those that are becoming sparkmates—and essentially they are in their marriage so it counts—and I thought of you. I thought of Sam's best friend who just disappeared one day, and I wanted to give him that best friend back if I could, and if I couldn't I wanted to give him an explanation as to why."

Miles shocked Bumblebee then because he started laughing. And laughing, and laughing. Clara just ate her cereal, a small smile on her face, and Miles slowly stifled his laughter. Bumblebee stared.

"I'm sorry," Miles apologized, wiping at his eyes. "It's just—a not human who's apparently buddies with Sam comes to find a guy who skipped out years ago without a single word of explanation, even faked his own death, and you end up saving his daughter. God, what the hell is even going on in my life anymore?"

Bumblebee knew that Miles wasn't asking the question at him, but he couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. He turned his eyes on Clara, now revealed to be Miles' daughter. No wonder the man was so protective of her, of the 'us' he had mentioned. Clara was a very special little girl, and the Hat Man was a very terrible man. And Miles Lancaster was a very ordinary human caught in the middle somehow.

"That black car in the driveway is me," Bumblebee explained, "Well, at least my actual body. That's what my kind refers to as an alt mode, in our bipedal mode we're essentially giant robots. You've seen me before, ridden inside of me, even, because I was Sam's Camaro. Well, still am, in fact, but I switched alt modes to find you because that's a little eye catching."

Miles' hazel eyes roamed his frame searchingly, looking for the truth. "Come outside with me so we can talk more."

"But I wanna know too!" Clara whined instantly, spoon halfway to her mouth.

"You have to clean your room, young lady. Daddy's not doing it for you again."

The conversation went downhill from there, Clara throwing a tantrum within two minutes. Bumblebee stared at the girl in mild shock, trying to put that version of her together with the seemingly supernatural one. Clara really was just a little kid, a girl who didn't want to do the chores her father told her to because something else seemed more fun and she wanted to be a part of it. It didn't matter that this was a something that would involve conversations that should be above her intelligence level, her understanding, but somehow Bumblebee knew Clara would understand perfectly. And like any kid not getting their way it made her angry, even angrier when her father picked her up to keep her from kicking the table anymore but still told her no. And like any other little kid it wasn't long before the fight just went after her, Clara slumping in her father's arms with angry tears in her eyes and apologizing begrudgingly when he asked if she wanted a time out for her behavior.

* * *

Bumblebee stood on the back porch, staring out into the yard. Miles opened the sliding glass door and joined him, closing it behind him firmly. Out of the corner of his holoform's eye he could see the man staring at him, studying him.

"I put her down for a nap," Miles said finally. "She's a right little brat when she doesn't get her way, sorry for that. Never can find a way to get her to stop; just gotta let her wear herself out."

The Scout just nodded, turning half way to return the man's gaze. Miles' dropped his to the ground soon after, digging in his pocket and pulling out a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. Within seconds he had lit the end of his chosen cigarette, taking a long drag of it and putting everything else back in his pocket.

"Clara's right, you really should stop those."

Miles laughed again, and Bumblebee decided he liked that sound. It was the most honest one he'd heard in a long time.

"Clara's always right," Miles replied with amusement, "And I always mean to. Even do, sometimes, but on days like these with the Hat Man… Well, I need the stress relief."

Bumblebee sighed, imitating the sound of air leaving a human's lungs. "I've got a lot of questions."

"I have a few answers, but not as many as I'd like."

"Who is he?" Bumblebee asked.

"I don't know," Miles stepped off the porch, taking another long drag and starting to walk towards the end of his yard. "The devil, maybe. Sometimes I can't even see him, sometimes all I hear is Clara yelling or crying or whimpering in fear at thin air because he's just not there, but I know he is for her. Her mother saw him, too. Just twice, though."

"And where is her mother?"

"Dead. The Hat Man got to her before I could," Miles said bitterly, and he started walking around the very edge of his yard. "She'd made me take Clara, she was just a baby then, and I hadn't known what she planned. Before the Hat Man used to be much stronger. He brought storms with him, dark nights with no end and lightning that refused to strike the top of trees. He was terrifying and powerful, and somehow Nicole took that away, but she lost her life in the process. She'd wanted to protect Clara, that I know, and for years the Hat Man didn't come back. But I saw him again when she was four, back from when you read that newspaper article. He touched that woman's husband and he touched Clara; one of them went berserk and tried to murder us all and my little girl never saw again."

During Miles' explanation he'd walked around the entire yard once, and as soon as he got to the spot he had originally started in he turned around, going back the other way. Occasionally he'd take long drags from the cigarette he otherwise barely noticed was there, never taking short puffs of it but always breathing it in as if he needed it deep inside of him, to reach a worry that would never stop stressing him out.

"I'll guess your next question is what exactly Clara is," Miles glanced at Bumblebee, and the Scout nodded the holoform's head. "My answer is that I have no fucking idea. She's like Nicole but stronger, only it's bad because she's young and she can't control what she knows and what she doesn't or what she does. Even still the Hat Man is stronger and she knows that, somehow, though she's never told me. But she's terrified of him and not even she knows what he is, but I guess she didn't know what you were either, just knew you weren't human. If the Hat Man is the devil, though, my Clara is an angel. I know I'm biased because I'm her dad, but it's not just me. Anyone who meets her is suddenly that much better off, the only badness she has around her, except being a naughty little shit occasionally, is the Hat Man. He's everything she isn't."

"How did you get involved in this?" Bumblebee asked as they finally made it back to where Miles had started again. Instantly the Scout turned around, already picking up what was going on and walking back around the other way with the man.

"I met Nicole before school let out. If you are Sam's Camaro then you remember him kicking me out at the lake to give Mikaela a ride? I met Nicole on my way home and God, I was never the same after that. She was twenty two then and I was still such a fucking kid—I thought that an older woman and the promise of a dangerous adventure was really something, y'know? Because I knew she was scared and running from someone and I foolishly thought I could White Knight it and protect her. And then I met Michael, her brother, and we both had to run because he'd seen me with her and I was no longer safe. God, her own brother, the sibling she'd grown up with, he—he wasn't himself. Even then I could immediately tell that something was wrong with him. It was like watching a dog with rabies, it might have once been loving and friendly but now it was crazy and dangerous and he would rip her apart with his bare hands if he ever caught her, and me, too."

"It's crazy what you do for a person you love," Miles continued. "Because I did love her, so much. Two weeks after I grabbed all the money I could for us and we ditched Tranquility I killed Michael. He'd found her again, you see, found us, and he'd managed to catch her. I'll never know what he did to her, exactly, but I know what I saw, and I saw him kiss her and breathe something into her. That night he came for us in the motel room we'd locked ourselves into and she was completely out of it, I couldn't even feel her heart beating although she was breathing. And he came with a knife and I did what I could."

Bumblebee looked down at Miles' left hand, and the man nodded. So that was what had caused the scar on his hand.

"Bastard did cut me up pretty bad, didn't he?" Miles smiled grimly, "Got me in the side, too. I wasn't as strong then as I am now, but I managed to get him down through sheer dumb luck and he smacked his head off the wall. Nicole was still out of it, thank God, because he came back then. Her old brother, and he remembered everything, and he knew he'd be sucked back behind whatever had taken control of him and wouldn't stop until he extinguished his sister's light, that's what he kept babbling. And so he had me smash in his head with a hammer. If Nicole ever knew that… Well, she never said anything, so I don't think she did. If she ever found out she would have hated me, and, well, Clara's here, so you can probably guess she didn't."

Miles stopped, suddenly, in the spot where he'd started exactly. By now they'd gone around the yard ten total times, five times clockwise and another five counter clockwise. Bumblebee stopped beside him and Miles dropped the cigarette, nothing more to be had from it, and crushed it under his foot.

Miles let out a deep breath, as if he was exhaling all the bad things he'd breathed in. "Look, Bumblebee, I had no fucking idea what was going on back then in Tranquility with Nicole and when we left I still had no idea. And no I have no fucking idea what's happening with Clara, but I want to keep my little girl safe. Except it's awfully hard to play a game and win when you don't know the fucking shitty ass rules and aren't one of the damn star players. And I just. I can't. I can't go back to Tranquility, I can't let the Hat Man get Clara, I can't afford to lose or try to win on neutral terms. I have to find a way to destroy that fucking bastard before he destroys her."

Bumblebee stayed silent, filing everything he heard away. He looked everywhere he could for reports of the Hat Man, but just like Miles, there were no traces of him on there.

"I don't know why I told you any of this," Miles muttered, staring directly at Bumblebee's holoform. "But you should just go. Go back to Tranquility and never mention me to Sam. Don't tell him that I'm dead, don't tell him that I'm Jeffrey Thompson, don't tell him about Clara or Nicole or the Hat Man. Forget Loving, Alabama and just take your ass back home."

"What if I can help?"

"Help? No one can help!" Miles snapped, rising anger making his voice deepen as he yelled. And then he realized himself, taking on a bitter tone. "This is a war between me and the Hat Man, and Clara is trapped in the middle. No one can help."

But that wasn't true at all. Clara wasn't trapped in the middle of anything, Bumblebee knew that as sure as he knew that people like her and the Hat Man were oddities that shouldn't exist. It was Miles trapped in the middle of warring forces; the only gray trapped between the black of the Hat Man and the white of his own daughter, the only thing stopping the Hat Man from getting her. And what would happen if the Hat Man ever managed to?

* * *

That night Clara had a terrible raging fever, and Bumblebee spent his time by her side, trying to comfort her. Miles had told him to get lost but the Scout had refused to listen, and after their chat Clara had woken for a brief period and had grilled Bumblebee about anything and everything up until around eight, when she'd just gone done. Three hours later and Bumblebee got up to find Miles, determined that the man should take his daughter to the hospital. Whatever was wrong with her wasn't normal, and she needed help.

But when Bumblebee entered the kitchen to talk to Miles he had to stop dead in his tracks, processor struggling to comprehend exactly what it was that he was seeing.

There was no problem with recognizing that Miles was standing at the sliding glass door, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand as he stared out into the night. No, the problem was that beyond him, in the darkness just beyond the edge of the yard and just before the forest was the Hat Man. And everywhere except in the yard rain fell and wind roared through the branches, and the Hat Man's face could be seen, distorted in a terrifying scream as he called upon whatever he was calling upon. But he couldn't get into the yard for some reason, and the tree that snapped in half behind him fell and turned to ash as soon as it hit the yard's perimeter, even though it was still thirty feet up in the air.

Miles took a sip of his coffee, "Clara always gets sick after the Hat Man comes, and he always comes again to try and get her in her weakness, but you shouldn't tell her that. I might not be like Clara or Nicole, or even as scary as the Hat Man, but I've picked up a few things of my own, and I'll be damned if I ever let that bastard touch my daughter again."

Bumblebee thought back to the talk they'd had earlier in the day, and how Miles had circled his own yard again and again, first clockwise and then counterclockwise. Somehow the man had created a barrier that the Hat Man couldn't get through. And Bumblebee knew he should run, should just dissolve his holoform and get out of there, the Hat Man and Clara and Miles be damned, go back to Tranquility and do just what Miles said: forget about them. With sudden clarity he knew how dangerous this all was, this war between two strange forces and little Miles Lancaster learning just a few things of his own to try and balance it all out, and how it was dangerous for even him.

The horrible notion that he might find out that heaven and hell is real, that good and evil can be summed up into two containers, and that Clara and the Hat Man are those containers was a terrifying one. Heaven and hell on the tiny mud ball planet called Earth; the last home of the Cybertronians.

But in that moment, in the dim lighting of the kitchen, Miles looked absolutely ethereal standing there, confident that for just the night his daughter was perfectly safe and that he was the reason that she be. And with another sickening realization, Bumblebee realized he couldn't just leave them like that, because he very well might in love with this human who would do anything for his daughter, even if it meant facing down the devil.


End file.
